


Chain Clothes

by SilentLinkandFairy (KotoneJunan)



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword
Genre: M/M, Spandexverse, Spandexverse AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 04:05:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2567582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KotoneJunan/pseuds/SilentLinkandFairy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Link has gotten too close for Ghirahim’s comfort. Something had to be done. But his ‘something’ backfires spectacularly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chain Clothes

Link had become a permanent fixture in the Demon King’s court, a quiet, modest little servant that served his master any choice drink he so chose, dressed in a chainmail and leather loincloth and nothing else. He was very shy, and only ever spoke to Demise, often tucked into a massive arm or sitting docilely on his shoulder. When he wasn’t, he was curled up on a specially made pillow his master had designed for his comfort, allowing him to be shown off and played with, depending on the mood of his Master.

Today Link was seeking his Master’s warmth, slipping onto his arm during a break between meetings, his arms wrapping around a massive bicep as he shyly fluttered his lashes up at his Master when an amused chuckle rumbled through his chest.

“Are you truly that cold, Skychild? I do have a fur coat for you,” He reminded him, recalling the thick fur garment that covered him from the shoulders down fondly. It looked almost sinfully good on his little toy. Link pouted up at him, playfully whining.

“But Master, you said the delegation from the South was coming today,” His voice held a hint of mischief. “Didn’t you say you wanted to show off your prettiest pet and make them furious?” He’s lightly teasing, but at the same time, he knew his Master would not turn him down. He hated the Southern delegation with a fierce passion. At the curve of dark lips, Link knew his Master was well aware of his playful manipulations, though he accepted them regardless.

“You’re becoming dangerously clever,” Demise laughed, using his hand to stroke back blond hair. “It’s quite fetching on you,” He complimented, and was rewarded with shy blue eyes looking up at him, a small blush on his features. “You behave yourself, you understand? I don’t want to hear a word out of you, regardless of what they say.” Link nodded, smiling brilliantly at his Master.

“Yes Master,” He giggled, adopting an almost vapid expression, happily clinging to his master’s arm. Demise shuddered softly, watching that keen intelligence hide under a veil of innocence and naivety. That innocent demeanor could turn him on no matter how much he dreaded his meeting with the Southern delegation.

* * *

 

The meeting was an unmitigated disaster. While there were some benefits to it, they seemed utterly interested in making him lose his temper. But whenever he was about to finally rend them apart verbally, his pet would gently shift on his arm, curl a little closer to him, shyly play with a sensitive scale, reminding him that there was too much at stake without ever breathing a single word. Blue would lose their cover for a single instant, and the keen sharpness would remind him there was more at stake. That above all reminded him that he was far too powerful to let them goad him so easily. After all, he did have a lovely, willing little slave on his arm that catered to his whims without ever misbehaving.

They returned to their quarters, and Link slid off, curling onto his pillow as Demise seethed softly in anger, unwilling to lose his temper around his docile pet who was not deserving of such a display. Link placed a warm hand against his Master’s stomach, kissing it reverently. He began to kiss more and more of his Master’s skin, light, fluttering touches that reminded him of how desired he was, and how powerful he would always be. Every kiss held meaning, and Link was on his hands and knees by the end, kissing his Master’s feet in utter servitude.

“Master?” He murmured shyly from his position on the floor when Demise froze. It had been ages since he’d been treated to such a thing. Kisses like these… they reminded him of what he truly enjoyed and wanted. He had a loyal, loving, and diligent servant. He shouldn’t have wasted his temper on those… creatures.

“Stand.” The order is firm, but not angry; Link obeys with haste as he does all his Master’s orders. “You are a loyal slave,” Demise groaned softly, his eyes filled with dark hunger and pleasure. “I ought to be spoiling you more,” He murmured, settling the docile, squirming blond onto his bed.

“But I’m your personal pet,” Link’s voice is shy, but there’s a very wicked grin on his lips. “Isn’t that spoiled enough?” He teased, and Demise growled lightly, running a clawed finger up a soft thigh.

“Not for one half as loyal, obedient, and delightful as you.” Link giggled, smiling up at his Master happily.

“I live to serve,” He answered seriously, his fondness bleeding through his voice. His thighs spread a little further for his Master to touch and play with him as he saw fit. “Anything for my Master.” His eyes dance softly, and he arcs up when one of those fingers brush against his chain-clad body. He whines, looking up at his Master with playful eyes, squirming and mewling shyly. Demise groans softly, before lifting the frail form up onto his lap and chuckling darkly.

“Anything, hmm?” He chuckled roughly, kissing the blond deeply. “You know… I might actually have something more substantial than just remaining my pet, tempting as it is to keep you as a lovely little trinket…” He grinned, a greedy smile on his lips as the Demon stroked back dark blond hair. “After all, you were quite the swordsman… Perhaps I should let you wield a weapon in battle again, join my side when I tire of Ghirahim. Make you… eternally mine…” Link’s eyes grew wide, and awe tinged his features.

Eternal life was uncommon enough for those not born to a demon, but to be gifted with immortality… His master trusted him that much? His heart pounded against his ribcage, a sudden excitement beating against his chest.

Demise observed the sudden awe, feeling greatly pleased at his delighted response, a purr leaving his lips as he beamed up at his master.

“It would be the greatest honor to serve you forever,” He whispered, overwhelmed.

And in the dark hallway, a vengeful, furious spirit stood, rage trembling in every bone.

* * *

 

Link had been feeling… off, recently. Shortly after his Master’s declaration, he’d become oddly ill, coughing and spluttering frequently for air as a headache pounded against his mind brutally. Nothing he’d done would change it, and it made him irritable and explosive, traits not naturally associated by the kind, sweet little blond.

Added to his confusion was Ghirahim, the spirit worming his way back into his Master’s good graces with clever words and gentle accusations towards the blond, who was slowly, but surely, losing the faith of his Master with every explosion, every loss of composure.

Today Link had been confined to his pillow, something he gratefully did as his worst headache that month slammed his concentration to small pieces, leaving him unable to do more than whimper. When his Master came in, all fury and disgust, Link could only stare blankly up at him, uncomprehending that the rage was directed toward him until a hand met his face.

Gracelessly, he tumbled to the floor, holding his stinging cheek with hurt confusion.

“Master…?” He whispered, looking up at him with watery, afraid eyes. Never had his master beaten him, in his many months of service. The fat tears rolled down his cheek, and he sniffled pitifully. “Have I done something wrong?” His voice quavered, and a sudden bout of harsh coughing made him double over in pain, clutching his stomach. Demise glared down at him, heat rolling off of his skin.

“How dare you disobey me!?” Link didn’t understand – didn’t his Master order that he stay where he was?

“Master…” He sobbed softly, though Demise seemed uncaring.

“Get out.” Link held one hand to a swollen cheek, crying as he ran out, stumbling over stairs and steps to disappear into the garden. How could he have been such a fool? He didn’t notice the satisfied gaze of one particular sword spirit, who moved in to reclaim his Master at long last.

It had been hours since the horrible incident, and Link was still in the gardens, his tears staining the grass below him as he continued to cry, his head hurting him worse with every tear, every bitter sadness, every thought he’d ever held of having his Master’s love. Eventually, the pain became too much, and the blond passed out, forgotten in the gardens.

* * *

 

A shadow oozed free of that of his original owner’s, an outrageous grin on his face as freedom finally made itself known to the demonic energy. He chuckled, moving the unconscious boy away from the hedges, keeping him from getting pricked by thorns. It kissed his forehead, his lips fondly, in an attempt to soothe the sleeping, distreested . What a perfect setup. The blond had been miserable enough to finally,  _finally_  let him free! A cruel chuckle left his lips, and the shade, made of all the darkest parts of the young Hero’s soul, hunted down the pair that had made him so miserable.

Demise opened his mouth to deliver a scathing reply to the blond who could not listen, when the words died in his throat at the sight of the demonic frame. It did not care about him, instead grinning cruelly at the sight of one particular sword spirit. Demise watched it, wary as to its motives.

“Well, well, well, reaping your reward, Ghirahim?” It crooned darkly, making Ghirahim scoff and look away. “Hurting me? Making my other self so utterly miserable and giving him a channel to put all of his frustration and hate away in?” Demise looked startled, and he let go of the white spirit, who tried to reclaim his place in Demise’s arms. “You don’t even know… I’ve been in his soul for as long as he’s been a child… All his hate, his  _rage_ …” Scorn dripped from his words, mocking fury in every syllable. “With nobody to channel it out on, oh no. He would never hurt his Master, he  _loves_  him, no matter how hard I tried to protect him from the eventual destruction you caused… No… his Master would never  _dream_  of such a thing. But he cried, and he cried, and he was miserable enough to finally give me form. You wanted to take away his spirit, but all you did was cleanse it. He’s even more pure now… and I can get my revenge.” Demise looked startled, before rage filled him.

“Where is he?!” The demand was harsh.

“Safe from him.” Demise wanted to snarl, it made little sense – the gardens. Of course, Ghirahim hated the gardens.

“Leave him alive.” The order was cold, and Ghirahim, once proud and gleeful, looked stunned, alarmed, and terrified. The demonic shadow chuckled.

“With pleasure…”

* * *

 

Demise found him, curled up in a small ball, being preened by multiple young birds, his innocence and naivety had brought them flocking back to him, before the fled at the sight of him. He carefully picked his sleeping slave up, a touch of dark magic probing for any remaining taint. “I’m sorry,” He rumbled, cradling the frail, devoted slave in his arms as he kissed his forehead. “I should have known.”


End file.
